


a night at the opera ;; john deacon

by taylorsroger (buckyrogers)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Insecurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-10-29 19:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckyrogers/pseuds/taylorsroger
Summary: The reader is a very talented opera singer, but the company she’s at makes her feel bad about her weight, because she has a bigger bust than most others do. She gets fitted for a dress which causes her to feel insecure about its extreme cleavage and John reminds her how perfect she is and how much he loves her frame.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> See what I did with the title? Sorry, it just had to be done! Also, guys, I know nothing about how Freddie and John walked around London, so I tried to picture… I don’t even know if people would run for then if they ever saw them on the streets. Sorry, I don’t know. I also had to do some research about opera in general, hope I could get its essence. I pictured 80′s Deacy while writing this one. Anyway, I hope you like it! I loved this request! Feedback is always appreciated!

The scenery changed on the upstage as the opera overture rehearsal ended. The screeching of the sheaves echoed as ropes were fiercely pulled. Musicians, accommodated in the orchestra pit below the stage, hurriedly reorganized sheet music. Artists packed the offspring wings, including you, awaiting the orchestra cue for their entrance.

However, as soon as you noticed your colleagues looking sideways at your costume, you timidly hurried away from the crowded offspring to the backstage. As always, they weren’t exactly admiring your costume, but vilifying you for the extreme cleavage made visible by it.

“It seems costume designers measured YN’s bust wrongly once again,” Tina murmured to Dermot, simpering at her own ruthless words.

Being an utterly talented opera singer had never characterized you amongst your colleagues. In fact, it had always been unimportant after being hired by the company. Since the first day, comments have been whispered regarding your bust, bigger than average, causing you to feel insecure about your weight. It had never been a preoccupation, but, after accidentally listening to ballerinas shrieking with laughter backstage while teasing your presentation because of your costume, doubts emerged.

“YN! It’s your cue!”

Astoundingly blinking, the director’s voice dragged you back to your senses. The artists on the stage silently whined, rolling eyes at the director’s command to restart the act. Once again, people gathered on the offspring wings.

“Can you get this right?” Tina questioned irritated, voice exploding with sarcasm. “We’re debuting tonight, love.”

As the orchestra restarted the music, people reached the stage. Ballerinas moved across the upstage according to the choreography as extras reached their positions, silently acting. Gulping, you obliged your legs to move, dragging your body to the stage center, where a spotlight had been focused. Your hands tightly gripped at the skirt, slightly pulling it upwards.

In his apartment, at the very time your voice echoed around the theatre, John sighed. His luggage lay untouched by the apartment door.  _The Game Tour_  had been over for five days. He refused to unpack until his mind accepted the fact that the chaotic, but marvelous, months spent playing bass around the world were over.

Drafts of unfinished songs lay over the coffee table, whether being written on tour or during boredom-filled hours at his apartment. Underneath the mess, lay two tickets accompanied by a short letter.  _Your letter._  John smiled, sitting on the leather armchair and pulling it towards him. He would never mistake your slanting handwriting for any other on Earth.

God, he had missed you. Being away from home for such a long time without being able to call you for weeks in a row had its effect on him. He missed spending afternoons with you listening to old records. He missed the nights you would spend at his apartment as he wrote songs, bass propped on his laps while he repeatedly played melodies. He missed going for late night walks around the city, stopping by coffee shops to buy any hot beverage. He missed visiting you on the opera house, where he would explore its backstage and all its magical, yet slightly messy, environment. He missed hearing your angelic singing around your apartment. He missed seeing your laugh, how your face would lovely contort into a smile and lit up with such happiness.

He missed  _you_. Absentmindedly chuckling at his thoughts, he took a sip from a steaming mug of tea in one of his hands as he reread the letter. He couldn’t wait to see you.

_Deacy,_

_I could have called you, but it would definitely spoil the surprise. Since I already had to send the tickets, I decided to write a letter as well. Honestly, I wish I could pay you a visit and hand you them myself, but we have been rehearsing non-top for the past two weeks. A new opera, in which I got the leading role, will be debuting a few days after you’re back from tour. It would mean the world to me if you came to watch it! The problem is I only got two tickets, so I cannot invite all of the boys, which is rather shitty .Would you, please, apologize to them in the name of myself? I’m sending both of the tickets anyway in case one of them wishes to come along. I miss you! Love you._

_Yours always,_

_YN._

Hurriedly drinking the remaining tea, John winced as the hot beverage burned his throat. He abandoned the mug on the coffee table, reaching for the telephone table. He dialed Freddie’s number, anxiously listening to the telephone beeping.

“That’s Freddie. Yes?”

“It’s Deacy, Freddie,” John excitedly answered, fiercely gripping at the handset and pressing it against his ear. “Would you fancy accompanying me to an opera tonight? YN’s debuting in it as leading role and sent me two tickets.”

“Is she?” Freddie smiled at John’s words. “God, I would  _love_  to.”

When the starry sky shone above London, John giddily pulled his black leather jacket hanging by the apartment door before leaving his apartment, tickets held tightly in his hands. Freddie’s Rolls Royce parked by the sidewalk on the other side of the street. John’s body shivered, buffeted by the wintry wind as he crossed the street.

“Hurry up, Deacy! We should never be late for the rise of a star.”

John got in the car, putting the seatbelt on and receiving a gleeful smile from Freddie. The city lights shone as they crossed London. John observed people on the sidewalks, overcoats and boots packed the streets as winter approached, showing its first signs.

The driver pulled by the opera house, cars parked in front of it. Occasionally, horns would echo accompanied by the shouting of irritated drivers. Freddie’s Rolls Royce lost between many other cars parked by the other side of the large street.

John and Freddie hurriedly crossed the street as people gathered at the opera house entrance, tickets held tight between their fingers. John pulled the pink tickets out of his jacket pocket, reading them in order to find the right section entrance.

“She got box five reserved for us,” John mused, heart inexplicably racing at his own words.

“She must  _love_  us, then. I mean,  _you_. I’m just your humble guest, dear,” Freddie answered pressing his lips in a thin line to prevent a smile from crossing his lips as John absentmindedly stopped walking, mesmerized by your gesture. “Shall we get inside?”

After entering the vast theatre and accommodating himself in box five beside Freddie, his eyes wandered to the stage. The heavy red and gold curtains were closed, revealing a tiny stripe of the dark wooden floor. Several musicians sat in the orchestra pit tuning their instrument so that it sounded perfectly. The painted ceiling bore a gigantic chandelier. John’s eyes focused on it, mesmerized by its beauty as though bewitched by it. Its excessive golden details shone magically under its bright tiny yellow lamps. His peripheral vision registered painted naked angels around it, holding harpies as though praising the chandelier.

“This is marvelous,” he whispered.

“Everything about an opera house is marvelous, dear. I’m actually glad to be here,” Freddie answered, observing his surroundings.

John watched the people moving below, crossing the theater looking for the correct seats before averting his gaze to the leaflet received at the entrance in his hands. It presented information about the opera, listing its acts. The following pages announced every artist participating in it along with their roles. A black and white picture of you in one of your costumes of the show occupied a whole page, a brief text present you, your career as an opera singer and your role in the debuting show.

The constant noise of conversation reached their ears as the seats were gradually being taken by the public. John couldn’t suppress the smile that crossed his lips. He felt proud of you it would actually be an understatement to say it. A full house would witness the rise of a star.

After the sounding of the alarm, a masculine voice politely asked for people to accommodate themselves before warning that any recordings of the show were strictly prohibited. The lights slightly diminished, the lamps of the chandelier shone feebly as a spotlight focused in the middle of the apron. The opera director announced its start, presenting you as the opera diva. John whistled loudly as the roar of people clapping filled his ears. He felt his heart would burst in pride.

The heavy red and gold curtains were slowly opened, revealing a magnificent scenario as the orchestra started playing, the classic music echoing in the perfect acoustic arrangement of the theater. As earlier during the last rehearsal, artists packed the offspring wings, including you, awaiting the orchestra cue for their entrance. The costumes were now properly worn, the makeup and different hairstyles done meticulously.

You exhaled in nervousness,   averting your gaze up to the stage ceiling packed with ropes and sheaves. Your voice would certainly fail. Where you good enough for the leading role, anyway? You would certainly stumble over the dress skirt. People would laugh at your costume for showing  _too much_.

The sudden thought of John witnessing your failure caused you to feel dizzy. Should you have invited him? Your cheeks acquired a light shade of red underneath the makeup, shame creeping up your veins. A mirror stood beside your anxious figure. Your eyes unwillingly averted to your reflection on it. That costume was ridiculously tight. Had costume designers measured your bust wrongly as Tina had suggested? The extreme cleavage made visible by that dress utterly annoyed you.

“Don’t lose your cue, YN,” Dermot teased, being followed by some other artists.

“Oh, shut up, loser,” you mumbled irritated, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes at his strutting to the edge of the offspring.

“We shall see who the loser is at the end of the performance, yeah?”

“Prick,” you whispered at him.

The overture was over, the scenery changed on the upstage. Music still played as people reached the stage. At a particular high note reached by the violinists, you obliged your legs to move, managing to straighten up your face. The nervous expression was replaced by an adorable smile as you graciously reached the stage center. A spotlight shone above you, illuminating your figure in an angelic manner.

John’s eyes accompanied your movement through the stage. Your willowy figure angelic illuminated by the spotlight caused his heart to miss a beat. No other goddess would be as stunning as you. God, he could admire your costume for the rest of life.

“Oh, fuck, John,” Freddie murmured beside John, mesmerized by your figure. “She’s a goddess.”

“She’s more than a goddess, Freddie,” John replied, hanging on the edge of his seat, intending to stand near the box handrail.

On the stage, you obliged the negative thoughts filling your mind to hit the back of it. No benefit would be gained by dwelling on them. Taking a discrete deep breath, moving in a regal manner, you opened your mouth intending to start singing as the orchestra hit another cue.

John’s eyes brimmed with tears of joy as your magnificent singing filled the theater, engulfing it in a magical moment. He gripped the velvety box handrail as he watched you transform the whole atmosphere of the place. Intense shivers wandered through his body, causing him to smile at the sensation.

Freddie excitedly watched your figure. His eyes attentively recorded every move of your hands and arms. He had never seen a more pleasing body language. He, then, averted his gaze to your mouth and throat. He could practically see your vocal chords working to produce those angelic sounds.

Ballerinas surrounded you. Your dress shone below the spotlight, sparkles occasionally reaching people’s eyes. Your hair combed into an elegant bun, filled with minuscule silver flowers, caught John’s attention in a second. A few strands of hair framed your features. Oh, what a marvelous sight.

After two hours of incredible singing, acting and dancing, applauses exploded through the theater as people eagerly stood up. The cast bowed, smiles all over their faces. John whistled loudly once again, clapping non-stop.

The artists left the stage, leaving you alone. A spotlight focused in the middle of the apron, to where you paced. Another round of applauses exploded. A genuine smile crossed your lips as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. After the amount of whistles, applauses and praising at your debut in a leading role, you wished your talent would be recognized by the company, who, up to that moment, vilified you for the extreme cleavage made visible by the dresses you wore.

Your eyes observed the crowd, averting to the right of the theater, where box five could be seen. You had obliged yourself not to glance at it during the whole show, afraid that John would have given up on you. But there you saw him, smiling and clapping eagerly. A silent laugh escaped from your lips as your eyes landed on him. Freddie stood beside John, equally clapping. A few tears streamed down your cheeks at their reaction towards your performance.

“Magnifica!” Freddie bellowed at you.

The director reached the stage once again, taking your hand in his and flashing you a proud smile. Both of you bowed together, earning another round of applauses. You stepped back as the red and gold curtains started to be pulled closed by the staff. The roar of the crowd was muffled by it, the applauses never seemed to cease.

Once Freddie and John reached the agitated street, John pulled Freddie to the staff entrance intending to wait for you to leave the theater. It took a while until you managed to shimmy out of your costume. Your dressing room had been filled with bouquets, a flowery smell filled the air as Harper helped you undress.

Quickly thanking him for helping, you left the dressing room, crossing the theater corridors in order to reach the staff exit. You smiled at the security guard at the door, who kindly opened the door for you. As soon as the cold night air buffeted your body, your eyes wandered through the street.

“YN! YN!”John’s voice echoed from a few meters on the grey sidewalk.

You ran to his arms, letting your body collapse against his. His arms embraced you in a tight lasting hug as he pressed kisses to the side of your head. Strands of your hair hit his face because of the wind, but he smiled. You were  _there_.

“God, I missed you!” you mumbled against John’s shirt. “I missed you so much! Where’s Freddie?”

“Hm, he left already. He apologized for having to leave without complimenting you, tough,” John nervously answered, Freddie’s words echoing in his mind before leaving — “I guess I’m leaving, John. I’m sure you both need some time alone, yeah?”

You timidly smiled. “Hm… This is actually…” you gulped, averting your eyes to your hands propped on his chest, almost reaching his shoulders. “What do you think of spending the night at my apartment, John?”

He chuckled nervously. “Wouldn’t you like to rest? I mean… I’d love to, but…”

“Don’t worry. It wouldn’t bother me at all, you know?”

John nodded, fingers anxiously pressing against your waist. Your eyes bore into his, another timid smile plastered over your lips. You blinked a few times as strands of your hair hit your face. “Thank you.”

John asked for a taxi, opening the door for you with a gentle smile. The ride was silent, but John’s fingers timidly crossed the leather seat looking for yours. Your heart missed a beat as he hesitantly tangled them together, causing you to press your lips in a thin line as anticipation hit your body. It was a normal gesture for a friend, wasn’t it?

“You looked like an angel tonight, YN,” John murmured. You shook your head, smiling at his kind words. However, they weren’t enough to erase your insecurities.

“John…” you started unsure. “I actually need to talk to you about something.”

John gulped, the gentle grip on your fingers momentarily faltering as the taxi driver pulled by your apartment. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. No, of course not,” you rushed to reply. “This is actually about me.”

You quickly handed the taxi driver the money, thanking him before leaving the car. John followed you, a concerned look on his features.

“What’s wrong, YN?” he anxiously asked while closing the backseat door.

You shook your head, reaching the sidewalk. You both entered the block of apartments as you fumbled with the keys inside your overcoat pocket. You unlocked the door to your apartment and entered first, turning some of the lights on. John couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your apartment. He missed it.

“I… I don’t know how I should start this,” you admitted, reaching the kitchen and pulling the fridge door open. “It’s actually ridiculous, but it’s been bugging me for a while.”

John anxiously waited for you to continue as he followed you into the kitchen. You offered him a beer bottle before resting against one of the counters and chugging a glass of cold water down. You tried to work out the words inside your mind. Nervousness filled your body. Should you talk about how insecure you felt towards it? By talking about it, you would oblige him to notice your body if he had never done that before. Wouldn’t it be awkward?

“Hm, YN…” John started, crossing the narrow kitchen towards you. He propped the beer bottle on the counter, next to your empty glass of water. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I know I spent a long time away, but I hope it didn’t change our friendship?”

You could notice an insecure tone in his voice, desperately shaking your head. “No, God. John, it would never happen. Nothing can change our friendship. It’s just that… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable talking about it.”

He shook his head, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “Go on, try me.”

You chuckled at his words, fondly gazing at him. However, you soon averted your gazed to his chest. “I haven’t been feeling comfortable with my body lately. I joined this opera company probably a month after you left for the tour, you know? Since then, I’m feeling self-conscious about my image. They fit me into tight dresses that end up showing too much.”

“Too much, YN? It’s a dress, nothing more than a costume.”

You sighed frustrated. “That’s exactly the problem. It’s a dress! Most of them make extreme cleavage, John… It actually makes me feel uncomfortable. I see other girls walking around the stage in similar costumes and I… I feel I’m overweight. They fit perfectly into their dresses…”

“Look at me, YN…” John whispered, taking another sip from his beer. A loving gaze lit his features as his hands slowly caressed your upper arms. “You’re perfect.”

“John, cut the bullshit,” you retorted, sighing in frustration once again.

“YN,  _I mean it_ ,” he replied. “Why would compare yourself to those other girls? Weren’t you the one who admired all shapes and forms, praising people for being who they are? Why don’t you celebrate yourself either?”

“John…”

“No, wait,” he whispered, pacing closer towards you. His delicate fingers reached for your chin. “I mean every single word. What’s wrong with having a bigger bust than others do? Did it ever prevent you from following your dreams? Did it stop you from achieving the bloody leading role in an opera? For God’s sake, YN… Do you how proud I am of you? I almost collapsed in tears seeing you on that stage. Please, listen to me when I say  _you’re perfect_. I believe these words don’t dictate beauty patterns in no circumstances: how many  _different_ people say these words to other  _different_  ones? Believe in me when they leave my lips.”

You gulped, blinking fast as your eyes brimmed with tears. “God…”

John silently laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your hands reached for his, still on your chin. Your eyes bore into his. For a moment, both of you silently stood close to each other. Your mind still absorbed his meaningful words, which, honestly, were the only ones that mattered.

“You’re perfect, YN,” he repeated it, pressing kisses all over your face while murmuring the words against your skin, causing you to laugh and squeal under his touch. “I’m repeating it until you believe in its meaning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader and John have a daughter who takes up her mother’s career as an opera singer and experiences the same insecurities her mother did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, well, Dad!Deacy for you all! I’m sorry for any mistakes, it’s already two in the morning… Anyway, I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated!

Judith nervously paced around her large dressing room, shaky breaths leaving her lips every now and then. The shuffling of her dress skirt against the red rug underneath her feet reached her ears, being the only noise echoing around room.

“God…” she whispered to herself, fingers tangling against each other. “This is ridiculous.  _Ridiculous_.”

She felt suffocated. Not only by the packed dressing room but also by her own costume. Her eyes anxiously averted to the clothes rack by the right side of the room. Covering the whole red wallpapered wall hung a wide range of costumes she would have to change into later. Her hands reached her chest pressing against her cold skin as another shaky breath left her lips.

“This is ridiculous,” she insistently repeated to herself as her eyes unwillingly focused on her image reflected by one of the mirrors in the room. Her nose scrunched up in disgust at the way  _too tight_  costume.

It was uncomfortable, not to say  _too much_. The dress large skirt was peppered with golden details, which crept up her torso in well-designed patterns. Its long sleeves perfectly hugged her arms, but exposed her shoulders, causing an extreme cleavage to be made visible. It utterly annoyed her.

People would laugh at her costume for showing too much. What a shame! How would she explain to her parents her complete failure to debut in an opera leading role? If only she was as glamorous as her mother had been while playing uncountable characters up on the very same stage Judith would stand on in about an hour… If only costume designers measured her chest right… If only-

“Judy! Judy!”

A desperate yet loud knock on the door dragged Judith to her senses, echoing around the quiet room. Could it be  _him_?

The girl hurried to the door, the metallic door handle pressed under her hands. Shivers crept up her body as she fumbled with the key slotted in the keyhole, turning it in a rather abruptly gesture.

“Judy, come on! It’s me!”

“What are you doing here, Rufus?” she gasped at the sight of him cowered against the white wooden door. He hurried inside the dressing room, closing the door behind him and pressing his back against it, reassuring himself he had successfully sneaked into her girlfriend’s dressing room. “Rufus!”

“I know I shouldn’t be here, Judy, I know…” he whispered, tucking a few strands of his long blond hair behind his ear. “I’m sorry for showing up like this.”

“You can get me into serious trouble, Rufus!” she exclaimed, blinking at his taller figure as though trying to believe he actually stood in front of her less than  _an hour_  before the spectacle started. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Her nervousness got the best of her, as her voice left her throat in a strangled question. The scene would have been comic if Judith’s nerves weren’t truly falling apart. Rufus hesitantly stepped towards her as she quickly rushed to stand in front of the mirror once again, something she had been trying to avoid since the makeup staff had left her dressing room an hour earlier after finishing her character makeup.

“What’s wrong, love?” Rufus quietly asked, suddenly noticing the heavy silence which inhabited the room, a languid silence.

“Everything’s wrong,” she promptly answered as hateful thoughts towards her mirror image crossed her mind. “This dress is ridiculous!”

“Judy, look at me,” Rufus rushed towards her, gently grasping her hands in his calloused ones, a few bandages covered his hurt fingers from excessively playing drums around the world. “Look at me.”

She violently bit the insides of her mouth, refusing to avert her eyes from the mirror. “How come I’m debuting in an opera as leading role if I don’t even fit into my costume? God, Rufus, this is a mess, a disaster. I’m not even as good as my mother! Why did I even follow her career anyway?”

Rufus sighed, stepping in front of her so that he stood in between Judith and the mirror. “Look at me, Judy. God, how can you say that?  _You are enough_. Don’t bullshit me with your insecurities when everything around you screams  _‘You are enough’_. You’re playing a leading role in an opera, Judy. Following your mother steps turned you into a true artist! And right now…” he desperately insisted, tightening his grip around his girlfriend’s hands. “Right now, this is you blossoming as a true artist, that’s why it scares you so much.”

Judith’s breath hitched in her throat at Rufus’s words. “I’m not enough, Rufus… People will actually laugh at me when I stand upon that stage alone.”

“Nobody said it would be easy, Judy. On the first time I played drums for my dad along with Queen, I swear to you I nearly passed out right before stepping into the stage. My hands shook so much I thought I would never be able to hit the cymbals right.” he let a strangled laugh leave his lips, causing Judith to timidly share a smile. “The dress is not ridiculous, by the way, love. Not even close to it.”

“Liar…”

“Oh, come on!” he scoffed at her, gently pulling one of her hands up to the level of her shoulders and stepping aside as he obliged her to admire her reflection in the mirror. “A true masterpiece! You’re ruling the stage in it, Your Highness, I assure you.”

She giggled as Rufus bowed slightly after pressing a caring kiss to the back of her hand. “I believe in you. Your parents believe in you, Judy. The cleavage is nothing compared to your talent. Let the dress show  _too much_ , embrace your body and let people talk about it. This is you.”

“Calling out the artists to the stage!” a feminine voice echoed down the corridor. “The orchestra is starting in twenty minutes!”

“God…” Judith closed her eyes, adrenaline pouring in her veins. “I may pass out. Also, you should go. Now.”

“I love you,” Rufus whispered against her lips before pressing a passionate kiss to them. Judith watched him hurry to the white wooden door, slowly turning the door handle. The door creaked open as he carefully gazed at both sides of the long corridor. In a matter of seconds, he had disappeared from the dressing room, leaving Judith alone in the heavy silence.

“Shagging right before the show, honey?” Lavender’s baleful voice reached Judith’s ears.

“You bet,” the girl answered, gritting her teeth in silent fury. “With the costume on, he likes it.”

“Oh, God,” Lavender closed her eyes, scrunching her face into a disgusted expression.

“You asked for it,  _honey_.”

Judith left the dressing room, pushing Lavender against the door and leaving her behind. A sudden rush of confidence exploding in her veins as she crossed the long corridors to the offspring wings. The sight of the large stage before her eyes and the heavy red and gold still closed curtains brought a smile to Judith’s lips. She would rule the stage.

“John, stop taking pictures of the closed curtains!” you chuckled at his excitement as Rufus silently sneaked into the box reserved to the three of you. “You’re ruining the camera film reel!”

“Good night, Mrs. Deacon. Sorry I’m late,” Rufus gently pressed a kiss to your hand before turning to a gleeful John. “Good night, Mr. Deacon.”

“It’s John, Rufus,” John happily shook hands with the younger boy before turning to you. He pulled the camera up to his eyes once again.

“John!”

“Smile, love! I don’t think you’ve noticed the proud expression that’s been on your face since this morning.” he murmured, voice slightly muffled by the camera pressed against his face. “Come on, this is the last one.  _I promise.”_

You smiled timidly, not wanting to admit that John was right. You had been dreading the moment in which Judith would shine as much as you did years prior. Being raised in a musical environment practically her entire life had its influences on her. She started singing early, always trying to accompany you as your voice echoed around the house. It brought such joy to her listening to you sing that she couldn’t help but fall in love with it. She had, then, followed your steps in pursuing a career as an opera singer, which caused your heart to burst in immense pride.

The orchestra music echoed around the vast audience as the lights slowly dimmed and the heavy red and gold curtains opened. The ballerinas gracefully moved around the stage, performing the opening choreography accompanying the orchestra. Judith rushed to the edge of the offspring wing, intently watching the movement on the stage. She could see Pietro on the other side of the stage, with whom she acted on the first act. Both of them anxiously waited for their cue to reach the stage, his bright hazel eyes averted to the ballerinas.

As they hurried to the upstage and the orchestra silenced, the scenario changed to a regal one: an exaggerated four poster queen bed occupied the stage center as characters reached their places. Pietro closed his eyes, letting his voice echo around the theater as he started the scene from outside the stage.

Judith obliged her legs to move, managing to straighten up her face into an adorable smile as she graciously reached the stage center. A spotlight shone above her, illuminating her figure in an angelic manner. Finishing his solo, Pietro reached the stage as Judith sang back at him, an answer to his character’s words. John’s eyes accompanied his daughter’s movement through the stage. Her willowy figure angelic illuminated by the spotlight caused his heart to miss a beat. No other goddess would be as stunning as her.

You noticed how John had slowly reached the edge of his seat, not even blinking at Judith’s presence on the stage. His lips were pressed together in a thin line as one of his hands tightly gripped the forgotten camera as the other reached for yours. He intertwined his fingers with yours, causing you to avert your gaze to him before changing a meaningful look with Rufus: both of you agreed that no one would ever be prouder of Judith than John was.

John’s eyes brimmed with tears of joy as her magnificent singing filled the theater, engulfing it in a magical moment. He gripped the velvety box handrail as he watched her transform the whole atmosphere of the place. Intense shivers wandered through his body, causing him to smile at the sensation. He caringly remembered standing in the same position years ago as he, along with Freddie, watched you punch a hole in the sky.

“God…” he closed his eyes, immersing into his own introspective world as Judith’s voice reached his ears.

Rufus bit his lips, bringing his hands up to cover his face in an attempt to hold back his own tears. He had been to other operas in which you were casted as a secondary character, and seeing you dominate the stage with your stage presence along with your angelic voice, caused something to snap inside of him.

You slowly pulled yourself up from the velvety chair you occupied. John had been paralyzed in the same position for a while, as though hypnotized. You obliged your hands to slowly run up his back, before entangling your arms around his neck, over his shoulders. He grinned at you, pressing a kiss to your wrist as a single tear cascaded down his cheek.

“Don’t forget the pictures, John,” you whispered against his neck, reattributing his gesture and pressing a kiss to the spot right below his ear. He sniffled loudly, heart swelling in pride as he absentmindedly brought the camera up to his face.

“If I may, John…” Rufus’s voice reached John’s ears, who gladly handed the camera to the younger boy beside him, nodding in agreement to his gesture.

Judith had reached the edge of the stage, her eagerly eyes scanning the crowd before her as Pietro kneeled right beside her. She, suddenly, averted her gaze up to the balcony, meeting John’s glassy look. He laughed slightly as tears cascaded down his cheeks. His girl had conquered the world.


End file.
